


Alternian Extreme Pokemon

by doxian



Series: Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2014 [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles, Fiduspawn, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Games, Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2014, M/M, Smuppets, doomed character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/pseuds/doxian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember when Tavros used Bro's smuppets as host plushes in a game of Fiduspawn?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternian Extreme Pokemon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mtjester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtjester/gifts).



> Fill for this [br1 prompt](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3280515#cmt3280515).
> 
> Warns for mentions of alcohol, death and gore. Oh, and for Fiduspawn creatures bursting out of smuppets I guess?

You're only in the shower for, like, half an hour. Enough time for any respectable dude to get his ablutions on without putting the crotchkibosh on anyone else's plans to use the john or whatever. 

Apparently, the time it takes to give yourself a good scrub-down is equal to the time it takes for Tavros to look deep within himself and discover that all he ever wanted out of the afterlife was to become a violent axe murderer. (Uh. Axe double-murderer.) Not just any old conniving malefactor, either, but one with a taste for plush. 

He's laid the smackdown on what looks to be approximately one metric fuckton of smuppets. The short distance from your bathroom to the living room is like a scene out of a slasher movie, just with white cotton innards strewn everywhere instead of blood. You're talking all manner of cruelly dismembered proboscises and colorful, torn-off fabric and single googly eyes staring vacantly up at you from the carpet. You thought you'd caused some heavy damage when you'd gone berserker mode on their collective asses that one time, but you've got nothing on _this_. 

You kind of want to give Tavros a congratulatory pat on the back for pulverizing this many of the things, considering how they plagued your childhood and kept you good and paranoid about doing the most basic of daily shit. Sometimes you couldn't even brush your teeth without discreetly turning around every five seconds to check that Lil Cal or another of his puppet posse wasn't about to get the drop on you. 

You follow the trail of carnage along the hallway. Your living room usually isn't at this end of the apartment, but this is Tavros' memory, not yours. It's his memory of when he and Aradia first entered your dreambubble - a copy of a memory. A memory twice-removed. (That's some simulacra shit right there.) You've moved around through the rest of the dreambubbles since then - occasionally chilling with some of the other ghosts for a while, just hanging out the way ghosts hang out - but somewhere along the way an unspoken agreement had emerged decreeing that the two of you follow each other around the bubbles like puppydogs. 

You can dig that. Been digging it pretty hard, to be honest. Nitram may be shit at rapping, but he's good company. 

Anyways, because this is Tavros' memory, not all of the details are right. When you open the door to the living room you'd notice that one of the walls is blank instead of plastered in posters, the turntables are in the wrong place, and some other stuff, but the reason why you don't notice any of those things is planted on in the centre of your futon. 

If you thought the smuppet carcasses were bad, you have no idea what to make of this pretty little tableau. Tavros is surrounded by animals like some kind of troll Disney princess, except they all look like the creations of a Jim Henson Creature Shop designer post-Jose Cuervo. You're pretty sure one of them is actually a gila monster with overgrown centipede legs, there's what looks to be a scaled cat with spines all along its tail and round, bright eyes that take up half its face, there's also a potato-looking thing covered in a multitude of rapidly blinking eyes with hummingbird wings hovering around Tavros' head. 

"Oh, hey, Dave," Tavros says, giving you a cheerful wave. "I thought you were going to be busy with your, um, sick beats for several more clockslices." 

"Nah," you say, standing there like a tool, not quite knowing what to do with your hands. "Got bored, took a shower." 

Suddenly, something clicks. "Hey, is this that Fido-mon game I heard you raving about to Nitram the Elder? It's like Alternian extreme Pokemon, right?" 

"It's, uh, Fiduspawn, actually," he says. "And, yeah, it is! You just didn't seem like the kind of human who would have an interest in such a specifically, um, zoologically-related game like this one, so I've been playing with Tinkerbull." 

You notice the little guy now, sitting on the floor opposite Tavros with his eyes wide and his fairy wings flapping rapidly. You can't tell if he's excited about the proceedings or as disturbed by them as you are. With some effort, you've been keeping your face as impassive as always, so hopefully said disturbance isn't showing. Not only are you way too cool to run screaming from something as benign as a bunch of weird alien animals who all seem to be enjoying themselves fawning over your trollfriendsprit, but you know Tavros loves this game to pieces, so you don't want to look obviously weirded out by it. 

"Oh, how rude of me," Tavros, together with the various beasts hanging over his person, shuffles over on the futon. "There, now there's space for you to sit, that is, if you want." 

"Uh," you say. "Okay." 

The spiky cat is in his lap and you try your very best to stare it down as you gingerly take a seat. Now that you're this close to him, you can see that his eyes are glowing a faint bronze, which means he's using his communing powers. Tavros considers his hand of cards and comes to a decision, lobbing an orange and black orb at one of the many smuppets littering the floor. 

You get a close-up look at the purple you- _want_ -to-call-it-a-spider that emerges from the orb and flings itself straight at the upturned rump of one of the smuppets, grabbing it and shoving its sharp-toothed maw right in there, before letting go and scuttling off. The smuppet swells up to a freakishly large size. Then, a tiny horse-pasta hybrid bursts out of the smuppet's face, ripping it to shreds. 

Your mouth has dropped open. You snap it shut once you feel Tavros sit up straight next to you. He raises his hands as if to clap, and then appears to realize what he was about to do and puts them down again self-consciously. 

"The girls always thought it was kind of wrigglerish, that I liked this sort of game, I mean, instead of devoting all my gaming time to battling monsters while dressed up in cool costumes," he rambles, looking almost sheepish. "Although I liked FLARPing just as much, that is, until I had my accident - " 

Come to think of it, it's weird that you've never seen him play before. Maybe he's embarrassed about it? What complete bullshit. You and your friends - hell, even your goddamn bro - are just as if not _more_ ridiculous than he is, he has absolutely nothing to feel embarrassed about, even if Fiduspawn is a weird-ass game that's probably going to give you ghostmares for a good few nights. 

You interrupt him by leaning in and casually slinging your arm around him, which is a little awkward since he's about a foot taller than you with broad shoulders that could bear the brunt of a few mountains. He slumps down a little and shifts the body of the lizard-centipede around his neck so you can fit your arm under it (it feels ice-cold and slimy, ew). 

"So, how do you play?" 

Forget being embarrassed over children's card games. How his beaming smile is enough to make your chest tighten with emotion - now _that's_ fucking embarrassing. 

"You really want to learn?"

"Hell yeah. You know me, I'm the most open-minded motherfucker throughout all the dreambubbles. I'm all about cultural exchange and broadening my mind. In fact, if you don't start explaining this game right now, I might be tempted to imagine up a Ford Pinto and go on a dream road trip through space in pursuit of a deeper philosophical understanding of the afterlife, so you better hop to it." 

He grabs the rest of the deck of cards and shuffles them, explaining the rules enthusiastically. 

"By the way," you ask, once he's done. "You ever watched a movie called 'Alien'?"


End file.
